Squibs, Spooks & Secrets
by FaerieChild22
Summary: The discovery that a known terrorist is actually a squib leads to a joint operation with the Ministry of Magic. Slightly Crack!fic HR.
1. Chapter 1

Conference Room, 8am

"Right, well, bit of an unusual one this morning. We have a new member of staff joining us on Secondment," Harry announced to the assembled members of Section D.

"Imagine that. " Tariq quipped, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm.

"Yes, thank you, Mister Masood," Harry said. "Due to the changing nature of the ongoing operation the Ministry of Magic has discussed the matter with the Home Secretary and it was decided that it would be best to do this as a joint op. We'll be receiving an Auror on Secondment for the duration along with a specialist in 'Muggle Relations'."

"What's a 'muggle'?" Callum asked curiously.

"Uh, that would be us," Ruth said, her expression wincing slightly. She wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the wizarding world but in her assessment most of the wizards brought up in wizarding families seem entirely clueless about the real world. Of course Five had a duty to protect all citizens, including the magical ones, and had been coordinating magical cover-ups with the Ministry of Magic for decades now. What was unusual was that the Ministry of Magic wasn't taking this case on to deal with on on their own.

Harry said what they were all thinking. "I realise this is somewhat unusual. Normally magical cases are handed over to the Ministry of Magic directly. However it appears that the man we're dealing with may be a squib who has resorted to using conventional terrorist weaponry in the absence of any magical ability. Unfortunately for us he has collected some rather dangerous dark wizards around him."

"Who's the Auror?" Ruth asked. "Tell me they're sending someone who grew up in the real world cause if we have another one that doesn't know how to switch a computer on and keeps trying to make cars fly I just might take my accrued holiday right now."

Harry opened his mouth to reply when there was a knock on the door. "Enter."

Ruth dropped her pen. Her jaw hung open. "Bloody hell!"

Callum sat up at Ruth's exclamation. "What?"

The man who stood in the doorway was of average height with unruly black hair and distinctive green eyes. He wore round spectacles and there was a distinctive old scar on his forehead.

"Section D, this is Harry Potter. Harry, Section D. Counter-Terrorism." Harry Pearce said.


	2. Chapter 2

In the hallway outside footsteps sounded along with the panting breath of someone trying to catch up and within moments an older man with greying ginger hair shuffled in, looking around in wide-eyed wonder as if he'd never seen a conference room before.

Harry Potter cleared his throat.

"Everyone, this is Arthur Weasley, Office of Muggle-Wizard Relations."

Arthur Weasley however didn't appear to notice anyone else in the room. He headed straight to the young Auror and gushed in wonderment. "Harry! Harry did you see? They have their very own fireplaces!"

"They're called pods, Mister Weasley."

"Oh. I did wonder where the fire was," Arthur Weasley moved his head to scratch an itch under his chin and only as he did so did he appear to notice the other people in the room. "Oh, hello. You must be the terrorists."

"Counter-terrorists, Mister Weasley."

"Right, right." Arthur nodded seriously. "Mind if I take a seat?"

Callum reached across the table and extended his hand, "Callum Reid."

Arthur Weasley gladly took the proffered hand and shook it rather vigorously. "Arthur Weasley. Pleased to meet you."

"Well," Harry Pearce cleared his throat, "Callum has introduced himself. This is my Section Chief Erin Watts, Senior Analyst Ruth Evershed and our resident Technician, Tariq Masood. Mister Potter, I believe you have some information for us."

"Yes, of course," Harry Potter stepped forwards, "We have an idea of the general location of their headquarters but they're obscuring their exact location using magic and we haven't been able to crack their spells yet but I've been thinking that some conventional muggle spycraft might help us. Now the spells affect wizard navigation techniques and GPS systems BUT we think maps are too low-tech to be interfered with so..."

Beside Ruth, her own Harry rubbed a hand down his forehead in a classic stress tell as Harry Potter briefed the team on the information the Ministry of Magic had been able to put together on the magical elements of the group. Under the table she reached out and laid a hand on his knee. Her boss looked round at him and she smiled softly at him. With that one look, as their eyes met, stress seemed to seep out of his body with a long sigh. Under the table Harry rested one of his large hands on Ruth's and squeezed it gently.


	3. Chapter 3

~  
Drabble 3

An hour or so later Ruth sat at her computer watching Callum explain to Arthur Weasley how the printer worked. Harry Pearce was pacing in his office as Harry Potter tried to explain why going in guns blazing was probably a bad idea. After going at it for a few minutes her boss threw the door open and stormed across the Grid to the kitchen.

Ruth scanned around the room. Everyone seemed busy, although Erin being of an astute disposition had looked up from her computer and met Ruth's eye. A tiny glance in the direction of the kitchen from Erin was taken by Ruth as a hint to follow Harry and check on him. She saved her work, minimised her windows and headed towards the sound of the kettle boiling. Harry was standing gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles, breathing heavily.

"He wants it sorted by the weekend because he has an amateur Quidditch match! Does he think none of the rest of us have a life?"

Ruth raised a hand and after a slight hesitation, placed it on Harry's back. She began comforting rubbing motions. Harry's eyes fell closed as he concentrated on the sensation of Ruth's touch. The truth was she found comfort in it too. She liked being close to him, now that she was learning to let go of her anger. Ruth suspected none of this had anything to do with Quidditch. The truth was that anyone non-magical was horribly out of their depth here and there were too many elements he couldn't control. Sir Harry did not like being in the dark or out of control and he had never been very good at dealing with it. Being the Head of Section D, however, Harry took in a deep breath and took out another mug. "Just milk?"

Ruth smiled to herself. She didn't know why the thought of Harry making her tea made her smile but it did. Maybe it was because he was sweet like that. "Yes, Harry. Just milk."

When they reconvened in the conference room after lunch, however, Ruth was beginning to understand Harry's frustration.

"This is a joint operation and under no circumstances are you going in on your own," Harry Pearce exclaimed to Harry Potter who was rolling his eyes at the older man.

"I don't need muggles getting injured and holding me back," Harry Potter insisted.

"Have you forgotten the part where they have semtex and sub-machine guns or are you just electing to ignore it?"

"Have you forgotten the part where I'm a wizard?" Harry Potter countered.

Ruth smiled as her Harry pressed his lips together in annoyance. "You will wear whatever tech we give you to wear, you will keep communications open at all times and under no circumstances are ordinary civilians to be put in danger. Do I make myself clear?"


	4. Chapter 4

~  
Drabble 4

The house was a remote tumbledown farmstead on the Suffolk coast. The house was bigger on the inside, leading Callum to speculate very loudly over the radio about Timelord-Wizard interspecies breeding. It did appear, however, to actually be used as a house. The terrorist end of the business appeared to be focused around the disused milking parlour in the largest of the outbuildings. Ruth couldn't honestly say seen a lot of anti-muggle squib terrorists before so the rule book on how to deal with them was rather blank.

The coastal location however, was clearly for pure old-fashioned convenience. Looking at the video feed being sent back to the Grid from the tiny camera attached to Harry Potter's glasses, Ruth was able to tell at once that much of the materials must have been smuggled ashore overnight on the stretch of remote coastline that bordered the north sea. Illegal arms, explosives and various electronics that could only have been obtained on the black market along with what looked like an array of unexploded WW2 ordinance that had probably been discovered locally.

"Wizard One to Mama Bear," Arthur Weasley's voice echoed over the radio, "I can't believe I'm using a real radio!"

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted Callum to draw up the call signs," Ruth muttered to herself.

"What's that Mama Bear?" Arthur was whispering so loudly he was probably being more obvious than if he wasn't whispering at all in the first place.

"Nothing, Wizard One. Alpha One, status?"

A frustrated sigh came over the radio. "Are you sure I can't go in with them? Can't you ask Papa Bear again?"

"Do as you're told, Alpha One. You asked for field duty and Papa Bear;s letting you go on field duty."

"But they're doing magic!" Callum's voice exclaimed over the radio in the exact manner of a toddler on the verge of throwing a tantrum. "And I'm stuck in a pickup half a mile away with a bunch of broomsticks."

In the end, half a mile away turned out to be barely a safe distance when the spells started flying. Without the ability to apparate, the squib ringleader of the group decided to make a getaway on foot as his three lieutenants tried to fight off Harry Potter and Arthur Weasley. Callum got to have his moment of glory by walloping a known terrorist over the head with the wooden end of a Nimbus 10,000 and tying him up with the knee-length socks from Potter's Quidditch kit, which didn't appear to have been washed since the last time it was worn. And possibly the time before that.

"Status, Alpha One?" Ruth demanded. By this point half the Grid was listening in. Her boss Harry Pearce was standing leaning over hear chair, listening to every word that came in over the comms.

"Tell Papa Bear we got 'em!" Callum grinned down the line.


	5. Chapter 5

~  
Drabble 5

In the distance Arthur Weasley and Harry Potter were tranfiguring the explosives into fireworks and sending them out over the North Sea resulting in a spectacular fireworks display. Soon they were joined by an array of ginger-haired wizards including a woman of about Harry Potter's age who apparated straight onto the front lawn and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. It didn't take Callum long to figure out that the ginger ones were all Weasleys.

Before Callum knew it there were dozens of wizards apparating in.

"I just told the teams we moved the match," Harry Potter patted Callum Reid on the shoulder. "That is ok, isn't it?"

Callum shrugged. "No idea, mate." Around him someone was waving a wand at the ground resulting that three tall poles with hoops on the end springing up at either end of the sand sunes. The Weasley called George appeared to be having great fun with the fireworks and unleashing a whole armada of what Harry Potter assured him were 'joke fireworks' to add to the chaos.

A woman named Luna appeared, along with a man who she introduced as her husband and started up a conversation about the muggle press that Callum had difficulty following.

On the ground by the house, Arthur Weasley was reading from a scroll. Callum had never seen a scroll before except in movies. His wife, a kindly woman named Molly had started a fire and appeared to be slow-roasting an entire pig while grumbling about not having enough wands for the potatoes to peel themselves.

"Team One," Arthur Weasley read, "George, Bill, Ginny, Percy, Harry, Ron and Neville. Team Two: Teddy, Albus, Rose, Scorpius-"

"I don't see why it has to be parents versus children," Ron grumbled, "They're twenty years younger!"

"Ronald Weasley, behave!" Molly waved a finger at her son. "And pull up your trousers. Just cause we're in the presence of muggles doesn't mean you need to start dressing like one!"

Callum bit back a laugh. His mobile went off. Another call from Ruth, probably Harry was wanting him back at the office.

Beside him a familiar figure with a lightening scar "Work calling?" Harry Potter asked mildly.

"Yeah, I'd better get that." Reluctantly, Callum picked up the call and was met with a barrage of demands from Harry Pearce about the Minister for Magic and the Home Secretary and Debriefings. Before he could say word in response the phone was plucked straight out of his hand. "Mister Pearce, Harry Potter." Around them half the ministry now appeared to apparating in. Colleagues chattering and barbeques springing up. "No, nothing serious, just a small change of plans. I've just had an owl from the Minister. I believe he's invited the Home Secretary...well its probably easiest if I just come and get you and Miss Evershed. How are you with side-along? Bring anything? Well you might want a coat...I see...well just think of it as a form of inter-agency hospitality. With snitches."

And so it was that on a warm August day, Ruth Evershed and Harry Pearce ended their day sitting on a sand dune watching the sun set and the stars come out, eating pulled pork sandwiches and snuggling up for warmth while beside them the Minister for Magic was explaining the rules of Quidditch to William Towers.

"Not bad for a second date," Ruth announced. "Quidditch match. Sunset. Magic fireworks."

"Is this a date?"

"Well, I don't want you to get the wrong impression, Harry. We've only known each other six years. We wouldn't want to rush it."

Beside her, Sir Harry Pearce grinned and stared hard at the Quidditch. "You're a witch, aren't you?"

Ruth squeaked. "What?"

"That's what's been holding you back. I've been watching you through this whole assignment. You're too at home, Ruth. I've been coordinating with the Ministry of Magic for years and yet you know more about their world than I do."

"I'm not... that is...I didn't..."

"You found that side-along thing alarmingly easy as well," Harry observed.

Ruth fell silent, wishing she knew how to explain away a lie you'd been telling all your life.

Sir Harry Pearce however, just leaned over and kissed Ruth very gently on the lips. "Its fine, Ruth."

"I'm from a muggle family, I wanted to live as a muggle. I mean I loved Hogwarts but I wanted to go to Cambridge, I wanted a career. I like my muggle life."

"You don't need to explain it to me."

In her lap Ruth's hands twisted together. Harry covered them with his palm and linked his fingers through hers. Cautiously, Ruth glanced up at his face and found his eyes twinking.

"Bugger it, you've known for ages, haven't you?"

"Merely suspected," Harry said. "You see, I've always though we could be magic."

"Harry..." Ruth whispered. He'd been storing these up. She could tell. "Just in case there was any doubt, this evening is not going to end in s-e-x just because you know now, ok?"

"Oh, well, I can't fault you for that. Personally I never get my wand out til the third date."


	6. Chapter 6

~  
Drabble 6

Harry was sitting on the sofa in his front room, dressed in a comfortable cotton t-shirt, a sweater with a zip neck and casual chino trousers. He'd long since taken off his shoes and was padding around in thick sports socks.

The truth was that Sir Harry Pearce had very little occasion to sit in his front room. Most days he got up and went straight out in the morning and then straight to bed at night. Only on the occasional day off did Harry have time to sit and do things like watch television or drink a scotch. Today, however, was different.

Today Ruth had come over.

Ruth had come over and stood on the doorstep and rung the doorbell. When he'd answered the door in his comfortable casual clothing Ruth had stood dumbstruck on the doorstep.

"Would you like to come in, Ruth, or would you prefer we converse in the doorstep."

"Sorry, its just strange to see you without a suit, Harry." Ruth said and she did come in then and put her bag down by the door and slipped her shoes off.

Harry was quietly pleased. This, hopefully, meant Ruth was staying. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Half an hour later, full of tea and tunnocks tea-cakes that had been delightfully messy, Harry sat on the sofa turning Ruth's wand over in his hands. She'd left it on the coffee table while she popped to the loo. In his admittedly rather restricted association with wizards and witches, Harry had never once seen one of them willingly part with her wand. Ruth had done it deliberately then, so he reached forwards to pick it up which is how Ruth found him sitting back on the sofa slowly turning her wand in his hands.

Ruth paused beside him and then slowly lowered herself onto the edge of the sofa.

"What's it made of?" Harry asked her.

"Birch," Ruth pressed her hands in between her knees. She wanted to reach out and grab it but she also knew she needed to know she could trust Harry and Harry needed to know he could trust her, that it wasn't a threat to him. She knew Harry Pearce hadn't lived through what had without an astute sense of self-preservation. "The core is dragon heartstring."

"There are dragons?" Harry said, looking like a kid who'd just been told that Santa Claus was coming.

"A few," Ruth smiled. "Wales and Scotland mainly. There are rumours of a few in Yorkshire somewhere but none of the sightings have ever been verified."

"Unverified sightings of dragons. Let us pray that one never becomes a national security issue," Harry muttered to himself. He couldn't help but notice the tense way Ruth held herself and quickly surmised from her brief glance that her anxiety related to the wand he held in his hands. Gently, he offered it back and she took it with a small smile and a 'thank you'. "You don't use it much."

"I don't need to," Ruth shrugged. "I live a muggle life, now."

Harry watched her from his comfortable position slumped against the back of the sofa. He was hoping Ruth would relax for a moment and finally when she caught his staring she sat back and turned her head towards him. Harry felt a little swell of pleasure in his chest that was choosing to spend her time in his company. He worried about saying something, or not saying something. Unlike many women he had dated in the past, declarations of love seemed to terrify Ruth. So Harry had held back but he knew that she knew and he had no reason to hide his feelings from her. Now more than ever they seemed to understand one another without saying anything at all. He reached out an arm and stretched it across the back of the sofa. Ruth shifted a little closer and rested her head on his shoulder and Harry had to admit it felt good. It felt right, for Ruth to be here. Here in his home, here at his side.

"I'll admit it comes in handy for cooking dinner in a hurry," Ruth said.

The comment made Harry laugh out loud and his heart swelled with pride and protective love as Ruth snuggled into his side. Moments later her jaw cracked in an almighty yawn. "You don't mind if I stay here tonight, do you?"

Harry kissed the top of her hair. "Stay forever, Ruth."

~


	7. Chapter 7

~  
Drabble 7

It was later. They were both naked and they lay under the covers of Harry's king sized bed leaning against the headboard. Ruth was admittedly more covered than Harry for she had pulled the covers up to her chin and burrowed down under the covers so that only the top of her head poked out. Harry lay with his back against the headboard.

"So, just out of interest..."

"Can't go around changing people's bodies."

"Not even a little off the middle?" Harry pouted. Once upon a time he'd been young and slim with a six pack and fit enough to serve in the Army but that was a long time ago now and he'd been thinking lately that he should maybe start looking after himself a bit more. Ruth was so much younger than he was and he wanted them to have as much time together as possible. "Help the arteries a little bit?"

"No," The pile under the duvet shifted a little and a pair of eyes appeared. "Come to bed, Harry."

"I'm in bed."

"Then lie down."

"Can we have sex again?"

"I need to sleep, Harry."

Harry looked down at her. He was on his side of the bed. Well, usually he slept in the middle but this would be his side from now on. Ruth was on what Harry hoped would become 'her' side. She seemed to have made herself at home rather quickly, all things considered.

"You wouldn't rather me with a slimmer, trimmer figure?"

"Harry!" Ruth threw down the covers, exposing her rather lovely breasts to his view. But he sensed that now would be the wrong moment to compliment them. "For the last time, I am not transfiguring you! And potions are only temporary. If you really want to slim down you need to cut out the carbohydrate you eat."

"But what about ice-cream? Bread? Chocolate buttons?"

Ruth smiled, fighting to bite back a laugh clogging her throat. "No ice cream. No chocolate."

Harry slumped down in the bed, lying face up on his back. "Well then," He huffed, "Bugger getting slim."

"That's the spirit," Ruth said encouragingly and shuffled closer to use Harry as a human pillow. "Besides, you're just nice and cuddly right now."

"Cuddly?"

"Mmm." Ruth lay her head against Harry's shoulder, one of her arms going around his waist.

"Alright, you can call me cuddly but if this gets to Mace or Towers you'll have to magic them up to Siberia for me. Are you sure we can't have sex again?"

Ruth spoke back with her eyes closed, "Tired. Tomorrow."

"Oh. Its just I was curious: do the lights blow out every time you come or was that just for me?"

Ruth's hand fumbled, moving down from Harry's waist to cup him. She found him half hard and fondled him gently, making Harry groan in response. "Just for the record, Harry, all the important bits about you are just exactly the right size."

"Is that right?"

Ruth kissed his skin where her head lay on his shoulder. "Well, you can be a little big-headed but nothing we can't work around."

"Ruth..."

Ruth's hand fell away and returned to its original position on his waist. "Save it for tomorrow," She urged him. "It'll still be there in the morning."

"At this rate," Harry grumbled but he let the matter drop and within seconds Ruth's breathing evened out into shallow, regular breaths that told Harry she had dropped off to sleep. In time his body calmed but he lay awake a bit longer, enjoying the woman in his arms and the birch wand on the nightstand that had brought them together.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry Pearce rolled over as he awoke and groaned at being awoken. The clock on the bedside told him it was still the middle of the night and at his side Ruth lay sound asleep until she too began to stir at the sound of a sharp rapping noise from the window.

Ever since Harry had discovered that the love of his life was a real, legitimate witch who had a magic wand and could perform magic, his life had never quite been the same. They had been visited by house elves looking for employment and Harry had really had to put his foot down to stop Ruth letting them take up residence in the attic.

And if it wasn't house elves and quidditch it was noisy visits from entire packs of the wizarding community who clearly felt they could never do anything without at least twenty colleagues, friends and relations.

This, however, was new.

"Ruth?"

Ruth stirred.

"Ruth, there's something at the window."

Ruth did not wake up.

Reluctantly – not least because he was all but naked – Harry Pearce slid out of bed and padded barefoot across the bedroom floor. Wearing only a pair of boxers he cautiously he opened the curtain to find, of all things, a rather indignant looking barn owl tapping impetuously at the window.

The owl stared at Harry; Harry stared back.

"Ruth," Harry spoke, not removing his eyes from the creature before him, "There's an owl tapping at our bedroom window."

"...mmmm? Wha...?"

"An owl," Harry repeated. This time he tore his eyes away to see his beloved buried up to her eyes in the duvet and looking like she wouldn't get up for love nor money. "I'm sorry to wake you, Love, but there's an owl tapping on our bedroom window."

"Well let it in, for goodness sake!"

It was several long seconds and a bug-eyes stare from Ruth before Harry realised she was serious.

"You want me to let the owl inside?!"

Ruth sighed and threw the covers aside. Her night dress was on the skimpy side of slinky and it was rather cool at this time in the morning. She headed striaght over to the window and turned the handle to let the poor creature in. "Harry, you must have seen an owl before."

"Well of course I know about owls, in theory but not...I mean aren't they meant to be like pigeons and live in the garden?"

Ruth gave Harry the sort of long-suffering look that told Harry she loved him but he was being stupid. Harry pressed his lips together in a moment of self-restraint. Now was no the moment to lose it.

"Would you mind telling me why there is an _owl_ coming in our window?"

"Why it has a letter, of course."

"A letter," Harry repeated. "Of course it does."

"Dumbledore never sent you anything by owl?"

"Oddly...no."

Ruth rolled he eyes at Harry's sarcasm. She found that a little difficult to believe but there were more important things to worry about. Ruth took the letter the owl was carrying and guided the owl over to the dresser where she arranged a perch and a bowl of water.

"Ruth it's going to shit all over the carpet."

"I'll put some newspaper down."

Harry opened his mouth to protest when Ruth reached for the dresser, grabbed her wand and yesterday's newspaper fluttered up the stairs and laid itself out underneath the owl on the carpet. Harry shut his mouth again. "I keep forgetting you can do that."

"It still freaks you out, doesn't it?" Ruth smiled.

"No," Harry insisted. It was, however, the insistence of a man whose words somewhat lacked the courage of his convictions.

Ruth's eyebrows betrayed her scepticism.

"Maybe a touch," Harry replied softly. With a hand he reached out to Ruth to grasp hers and kissed her finger tips. "But I love you for it. Why is there an owl again?"

Ruth shook her head at the silly man before her. "Hetty was bringing a letter."

"Hetty."

"The owl's name is Hetty?"

"After Hetty Sorrel. You know, George Eliot."

Of course Ruth would name her animals after literary characters. Which meant, naturally, the owl belonged here. The owl was Ruth's. "Ruth...are you telling me that in addition to two cats, the house elves you think I don't know live in the attic and a mandrake patch in the garden, you somehow failed to mention you live with an owl."

"Well to be fair, Harry, Hetty spends a lot of time outside. She's only here a couple of nights a week. There's a big owlry down the road at the post office and she has a mate there so she's not here all that often."

"Of course she isn't."

"Are you angry?"

"Ruth, I can't sleep in the same room as an owl!"

"Of course you can. Come back to bed," Ruth ushered Harry back in the direction of the king sized bed that dominated the room.

"Ruth, its staring at me."

"You're sleeping in her bedroom. Of course she's staring at you."

Harry, most reluctantly, began crawling into bed. His eyes never left Hetty's as they bore into him with the full force of a predator's stare. "Ruth...!" Harry grumbled.

Ruth shook her head as she climbed in beside him and put the light out. "Go to sleep, Harry."

"Ruth, I think she's still staring at me."

"She's an owl, Harry, she can see in the dark."

"I can't sleep while she's staring at me. And last time we tried to have sex the house elves were listening."

"On the other hand, when was the last time the house got bugged?"

Harry fell ominously silent.

Ruth smiled to herself.

Harry stared at Hetty in the darkness, and then at the ceiling above which the house elves (which he had spent the last weeks pretending had been evicted in order to avoid an argument) were almost certainly listening in to every word they said. Now that he thought about it, it had been a while since the last kidnap attempt. He was still reserving judgement on Hetty and he didn't like her sleeping in the bedroom.

"What about the living room?"

"Don't be daft."

"The attic?"

"Go to sleep, Harry."

"Why doesn't she sleep in a tree?"

"Henry James Pearce! If you don't stop asking questions and let me go back to sleep I'm going to make _you_ sleep in a fucking tree." Ruth punched her pillow. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry but I'm exhausted. I have an owl. Her name is Hetty. She's sleeping over. If you have a problem with that by all means go back to your place."

Harry shuffled down the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. After a suitable lengthy pause he leaned over and kissed Ruth goodnight.

Ruth closed her eyes and sighed. She leaned into Harry's warm, cuddly body. A soft 'woo-ooo' echoed through the room and, for a few hours at least, all way quiet once more in the Evershed household.


End file.
